


A Form of Death

by destimushi



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Loss, M/M, Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, The reunion we deserve, Venom (Movie 2018) Spoilers, grieving Eddie, venom movie coda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-20 23:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16565486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destimushi/pseuds/destimushi
Summary: After Eddie and Venom defeated Drake and Riot and saved the planet, Eddie wakes up in the hospital burnt, bruised, and utterly alone. Venom's gone, and Eddie has to learn to live with only one voice in his head again. Or does he?A coda taking place between the climax and the ending of the Venom movie.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have fallen down this hole and I don't even care. I can't get enough of Venom and his boy Eddie and this is the reunion I want for them! 
> 
> Work is self edited but unbetaed. All mistakes are my own!

This is a dream.

Eddie knows.

Knows he’s reliving the same paralyzing moment over and over and over until his sanity frays. But he can’t stop it. Can’t stop the shit show going down in slow motion around him as if he’s not there.  

Heat.

So intense it blisters his skin.

It hurts. It fucking  _ hurts _ . And Eddie does the most obvious thing. He screams. And screams. And screams until his throat is bleeding and his eyes sting with tears.

He wants to wake up.  _ Needs _ to wake up from this nightmare because he’s going insane. Fire licks at his skin, surrounding him, consuming him. Then it all fades.

He’s splitting in half. A piece of him is ripping. Melting in the fire.

Venom is dying.

Dying.

Eddie bolts upright, and the echoes of his screams fade into the dark hospital room. He blinks sweat from his eyes, and the rapid inhale and exhale of his panicked breaths chase the frantic pounding of his heart. Three nights. Three nights where Eddie gets to watch Venom’s death in excruciating detail.

Every time the nightmare creeps upon him, Eddie remembers a forgotten piece from that dreadful moment. The rasp of Venom’s voice. The cool slide of Venom’s flesh. The hint of contentment in Venom’s farewell. Every little thing about that fucking night haunts him, and his blistered skin is a constant reminder that Venom is truly gone.

And Eddie should rejoice. Should be over the moon that the damn alien parasite is out of system for good. That they prevented an alien invasion that would have destroyed all of humanity. He should feel  _ good _ because saving people is what he does. It’s what he aims to do every day of his life. Yet, a tiny piece of him died for every life he saved that day.

Eddie groans as pain flares across his arms and chest. Sitting upright so suddenly has done no favours for his second-degree burns. He’s thirsty, but he doesn’t want to ring for a nurse. Gingerly, with many hisses and moans, Eddie lowers himself back onto the hospital bed and arranges his gown. He stares at the ceiling. The clock on the wall marches to a steady beat, and the tic-toc is deafening in the silent room.

Has his life always been this empty?

*~*~*

Silence.

Silence fills his every waking moment.

Eddie wants to scream to fill the void.

He rolls from his bed, careful he doesn’t rub the tender skin of his forearms on the rough cotton sheets, and stumbles into the bathroom. Agitated. He’s always so agitated these days. He grabs a glass from the medicine cabinet, fills it with tap water, and drains it in large gulps. Water dribbles from the corners of his lips and spills down his chin, soaking his flimsy tank top, but Eddie doesn’t care.

His burns are healing. All but the most stubborn scabs have fallen. It pisses him off, as if his body is actively purging all remnants of Venom. He’s being irrational, but his skin itches like he’s some fucking heroine addict and his head is so  _ empty. _

Eddie’s reflection stares back at him. He’s pale where his skin isn’t a lobster pink. His eyes are sunken, his cheekbones harsh in the fluorescent light, and his beard is out of control. He’s a far cry from the Eddie who was going to marry Anne. A far cry from the Eddie running all over San Francisco taking down bad, bad people.

A far cry from the Eddie with Venom coursing through his veins.

_ Venom. _

Eddie shuts his eyes and sucks in unsteady breaths. It’s been over two weeks. Two weeks of peace and quiet in his head. And privacy. No freaky alien reading his every thought while snacking on his pancreas, and no hired goons kicking down his door and tasing him every chance they got.

It’s good to have his own body and his own life back. It’s sane, safe,  _ good. _

And the emptiness in his head? Eddie’s sure once he starts working again, he’ll be too busy to even think about Venom. Besides, this is for the best. For his health and his longevity. It’s good that Drake’s gone. Riot. Venom.

Eddie’s chest squeezes, and the pit in his stomach gapes wider. He must be hungry. When was the last time he ate? He ignores the unimpressed glare from his reflection and shuffles down the hall and into the kitchen. He should eat something. Anything.

Anything to fill the gaping hole in his gut where a warm ball of goo used to occupy.

He yanks open the fridge and sighs. A bottle of bear and half a jar of pickles. Venom would laugh at him then ask for some takeout. And by takeout he means heads. Eddie chuckles and opens the freezer.

He sucks in a sharp breath, and his heart stops.

Tater tots.

Well, goddamn fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

“How’ve you been?” Lewis Donate asks, his voice soft through the phone speakers.

A different Eddie might have found it sincere. But right now, he doesn’t know how to feel about anything. “Okay, I guess,” he says with a shrug.

“Hey, look, I got your message.”

“Message?”

“Do the right thing, shithead?”

Eddie groans, then chuckles. “Oh yeah, that message.”

“Come back to the network, Eddie,” Lewis says, and there’s that softness again Eddie’s not sure what to make of. “We can do the right thing together.”

He should say yes. He  _ wants _ to say yes. The tiny word is on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t. Can’t bring himself to look at anything related to the Life Foundation, to Drake, to the Symbiotes.

To Venom.

“You’ve been so good to me in the past—”

“Eddie, think about this.”

“—and you know normally I’d jump at the opportunity. But I’m not in the right headspace right now.”

“We can work it out—”

“No,” Eddie says, and he’s surprised at the conviction in his voice.

Silence, then a soft huff of a sigh, and Lewis says, “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“Goodbye, Lewis.” Eddie hangs up and stares at his phone until the screen fades to black. Then he stares at it some more.

How long has it been? He’s not sure. Not sure of anything anymore. The soft pink scars on his arms are smooth, the skin still tender but healed. How can time heal all wounds when he can’t even keep track of it? When the emptiness in his head distorts and swallows everything until Eddie’s left too exhausted to even care?

The phone buzzes and the screen lights up. A text message from Anne. Eddie sighs, his thumb hovering over the reply button, but he pauses. It’s always the same. She wants to know how he’s doing. How he’s holding up. What he’s been doing with himself since the incident.

What’s he going to tell her that’s different this time? What has he done since he’s gotten his body back?

Nothing. Nothing, like the gaping hole growing in his chest. Nothing.

Eddie closes his eyes and drops his phone where he stands, the dull thud an echo of the dullness of his life without Venom. Just the whisper of that name brings a fresh stab of pain in the back of his skull, and Eddie groans as he slumps to the floor, his head in his hands.

And tears spill over for the first time since the day Venom melted through his fingers.

*~*~*

They shared a kiss. One kiss. And it’s a kiss that haunts him.

Eddie rolls over and kicks off his sweat-drenched sheets. Why is it so damn hot in here? He swallows back a wave of annoyance and tries to go back to sleep. Tries to relive the faint taste of that one kiss they shared in the forest.

So many things had happened that day, and yet, it’s the kiss he remembers with vivid detail. The adrenaline of survival, the ecstasy of seeing Venom again, the shock of that initial moment where Venom’s tongue slithered past his lips and down his throat.

Everything about that moment should have freaked him out, yet it didn’t. It just felt...right. Venom’s tongue invading his throat, claiming him, even as the rest of him shuddered with that familiar tingle of bonding.

He’d only had Venom inside him for a short while, but in some strange way, Venom completed him like no one could. And it became clear in that moment when Eddie opened to Venom and accepted the alien as a part of himself. When Eddie became Eddie and Venom.

When I became we.

Eddie takes a deep breath and drapes his forearm across his forehead. He aches to be whole again. To have Venom’s presence imprinted in his body and on his soul once more. He rolls off the bed, his feet slamming into the laminate floor with a jarring thud, and stumbles into the bathroom.

Why is he so damn hot?

He crawls into the bathtub still dressed, and fumbles to turn on the shower. His fingers slip on the faucet handle, but he manages it eventually, and cold water crashes down in a chilling torrent. Eddie whimpers, then sighs in relief as the shower soaks his t-shirt and boxers.

Cold water tattoos across the back of his neck, and his mind quiets as droplets fall from the tip of his nose. His skin is still on fire, but he’s not burning up anymore. Instead, the heat is pleasant, and it spreads into the tips of his fingers and toes until he’s cocooned in a familiar warmth.

Eddie groans, his voice laced with something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time. Heat converges between his legs, and it takes Eddie a moment to realize his cock is filling and twitching to life.

_ What the fuck? _

He tries to ignore his growing erection, stepping back until the cold water pelts him right between the thighs. But that heat doesn’t let up, and it grows hotter until his cock is at full mast and throbbing. Tenting his wet underwear and demanding his attention.

It’s as if someone else—some _ thing _ else—is stroking his cock to life, and there’s nothing Eddie can do to stop it. He sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, pushes his boxers down his thighs, and wraps his hand around the base of his cock. The faint taste of Venom’s mouth rips another groan from him. The slick slide of Venom’s tongue as it slithered down his throat, and Eddie can’t stop his hand from pumping his cock if he tried.

His imagination goes haywire, and images of Venom’s body on top of him, enveloping him assaults the back of his eyelids. Venom, his tongue slathering down Eddie’s chest, his black goo wrapping around Eddie’s cock the way Eddie’s hand is gripping it right now. Venom pressing against a part of him he hasn’t let anyone touch in a long time. Pressing  _ into _ him so intimately they become one.

They  _ are _ one.

Eddie cries out, his hand moving in a blur as it coaxes his orgasm from him. Rope after rope of hot come splashes against the tiles to be washed away.

Eddie sinks to his knees and sags against the wall of the shower, only then does he shiver in the chill of the cold water sprinkling down on him.


	3. Chapter 3

_Eddie._

Eddie drops the can of soup he’s holding, and Mrs. Chen cocks an eyebrow at him from behind the cash register. “Eddie, are you okay?”

“Uh, y-yeah, sorry, my hand slipped.” He shakes his head and picks up the dented can and grabs a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. At the rate he’s going through this stuff, it’s a miracle he’s not shitting hot pink paste these days. Eddie brings his dinner to the counter and tries for a smile. His cheeks are stiff, and he wonders when he last smiled. “How’s business, Mrs. Chen?”

“You know. Same old.” She eyes him as she rings up his soup, ham and cheese sandwich, and stomach medicine. “Have you ever heard of vegetables?”

“Vegetables? What? No, never heard of those.” His lips twitch. He drops a twenty on the counter and grabs his stuff, not bothering to wait for his change, and walks out into the cold night.

His phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket and sees Dan’s name on the screen. His thumb hovers over decline, but something makes him change his mind. Maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t spoken to anyone other than Mrs. Chen since he got back and he’s really fucking lonely. Or maybe because Dan isn’t Anne.

“Hey, man,” Eddie says, his voice more cheerful than he thought possible.

“Eddie,” Dan says. Is that relief Eddie hears in his voice? “How’ve you been, buddy?”

“You know—” Eddie shrugs. “Same old, same old.”

“Uh huh. Right.”

“Is something wrong? How’s Annie?” Eddie isn’t in the mood for small talk, but he’s making an attempt at being social, albeit a pretty pathetic one.

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. Just wanted to check up on you,” Dan says and there’s a shuffling sound. “Eddie?” Anne’s voice drifts through and Eddie’s chest seizes. “Eddie is that you?”

“Hey, Anne.” If his voice could duck in embarrassment. He’s been ignoring Anne’s calls and texts because he doesn’t know how to face her.

“Thank God you’re okay,” she says, her voice relaxing a touch before it turns angry. “Why haven’t you been returning my calls?”

Eddie shrugs and remembers she can’t see him. “Just, been busy, you know?”

“Busy doing what?” she demands.

“You know, journalism, writing...things…”

If Annie hears the lie in his voice, she doesn’t press. Instead, her voice is soft when she says, “I’m worried about you, Eddie.”

“I’m fine. Peachy. Right as rain.” He pockets his soup and sandwich and opens the gate to his apartment building. “I’ve been doing a lot of research. Getting back into the swing of things. I’m fine.”

Anne sighs. “If you need anything, _anything,_ you have my number.”

“Thanks, Annie,” Eddie says, and he finds the blossom of warmth in his chest comforting. “I mean it. Thank you. And Dan. I’ll talk to you later.”

“See you.”

The line goes dead just as Eddie reaches the front door of his apartment. The jackass across the hall has his tongue down a different girl, and Eddie finds himself too tired to be disgusted by the douchenozzle. He has turned down his music since that night, though. Thinking back on it, it was all thanks to Venom.

Eddie chuckles and pushes into his apartment. It's been two months since those goons smashed through the front door and lost him his damage deposit, but he’s been cleaning the place up a piece at a time. It’s no five-star hotel, but this place is still home, and he can’t keep living like a slob. He drops the sandwich on the dinner table, next to his open laptop, and grabs a beer from the fridge. The laptop whirls back to life as he taps the space bar, and he takes another swig of beer before sitting down in front of the computer. The browser is still open on the last thing he searched.

Stockholm Syndrome.

It’s the last thing he can think of that could explain this hole in his chest. His last desperate attempt at fixing himself. He was possessed and held hostage by a fucking alien, then hunted by hired goons who wanted him dead. Venom protected him. Made him feel safe. Gave him a reason to smile again after he pissed his life away.

Isn’t that why he’d grown fond of the monster living under his skin? Like a kidnapping victim falling for the kidnapper? Or is it more? Eddie doesn’t have the answers. Doesn’t even know what questions to ask. And he definitely can’t go see a shrink about it.

He continues combing through the internet, looking for answers while eating his sandwich. When he’s done his bland meal, he kicks back in his chair and scrubs a hand down his face and sighs.

There’s nothing. Not that he’s surprised. It’s not like he can type in Google _post-alien monster possession trauma and how to deal_ and expect any results. He slams the laptop shut and gets up, trudging toward his bedroom, his half finished beer forgotten. It’s still early, but Eddie’s not in the mood for shitty TV and definitely not in the mood for people.

With a sigh, he rolls into bed and turns to his side, and when he’s hovering in that place between wakefulness and sleep, he hears it again.

_Eddie._


	4. Chapter 4

“Eddie?” Anne’s voice washes over him like a balm on his soul, and Eddie sighs. 

“Annie.”

“Eddie, is everything okay?” Her voice is tight even though Eddie can almost feel her effort at staying calm. Regardless of what happened between them, she loved him once, and it’s apparent to Eddie that they will always be friends. 

And Eddie needs a friend now more than ever. “Yeah…no. I don’t know,” Eddie mumbles. “I’m hot one second, cold the next, and I’m  _ hearing  _ things. Again.” It costs Eddie more than he cares to admit to tell Anne this, but he needs to talk to someone. 

“Did you go see Dan? Is—” She sucks in a sharp breath and pauses. “Is it  _ him? _ ” 

“I got checked out. MRI and the whole shebang,” Eddie says, and he doesn’t miss the tremor in his voice. “No freak outs, no weird readings. They can’t tell what’s wrong with me. Sent me home with some Tylenol and a prescription for sleep.”

“Are you sleeping?” 

Eddie pauses. “Can we...can I come over?” 

Another beat of silence. “Okay, Eddie.”

When Anne opens her front door, Eddie is shivering despite the warm breeze darting through the streets of San Francisco. He steps into the familiar entryway and a fresh wave of sadness washes through him. This could have been his— _ was _ his. He’s not sorry for exposing Drake, but he is sorry for how he did it, for how he hurt Annie and how he destroyed their potential life together. 

Though, maybe it happening before they got married was a blessing in disguise. It’s not like marriage would have stopped Eddie from snooping if it meant taking down some other shady hot-shot, and divorce is a lot messier than a simple breakup. 

Anne pulls him into a tight hug, and Eddie melts into her embrace, taking the strength he so desperately needs from her arms. She’s with Dan now. Eddie genuinely wishes them happiness, and he’s grateful that they allow him into their lives like a parasite. 

_ Parasite. _

Eddie chokes back a groan and pulls away, his heart seizing as if it’s trying to fold in on itself. 

“Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll make us some coffee.”

Eddie nods and walks himself into the living room as Anne hurries into the joining kitchen and pulls a tin from the cabinet. Nothing’s changed. The couch is still in the same spot, as is the TV, the coffee table, the potted plant by the front window, and the lounging cat who hardly paid him any attention. Everything’s the same, yet it all feels so different. The couch is not as comfortable as he remembers, and he doesn’t feel like he belongs here. Doesn’t feel like he belongs with Anne and her fancy furniture and her perfect life. 

Eddie knows where he belongs. Who he belongs to. But it’s all moot now. 

The couch dips next to him, and Eddie snaps to a steaming mug in his face. “Dark roast, black, just how you like it.”

“Thanks.” He accepts the mug and warms his hand around the ceramic. Annie handing him a mug of coffee. Such a mundane, small thing, but it triggers a rush of warmth that settles him. He misses her handing him coffee, misses her, but more so than anything, he misses being with someone. 

Even if that someone was with him twenty-four seven and ate half his liver. 

Anne settles beside him, her legs tucked beneath her hip, and her mug cradled in her palms. “Talk to me.”

Eddie takes a sip of his coffee and luxuriates in the warmth and the bitterness on his tongue. “I’m not sleeping.”

“Oh, Eddie.” She reaches over and strokes a slender finger along Eddie’s cheek.

He leans into the touch and closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then continues, “I can’t. Every time I think I’m getting better the dreams come back. And then the fevers came back. And the chills.” He hugs the mug closer to his chest and takes a quivering breath. “I think I’m going crazy.”

Anne sighs and scoots across the couch, her slim frame snuggling against Eddie like they used to on movie nights. “You said something about hearing things?”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs. 

When he doesn’t say anything else, Anne twists and looks up at him. “And?”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Cut the bullshit.”

“Okay, okay,” he says with a chuckle. Anne never took his shit before, what makes him think she’d start now? “It’s...it’s usually when I’m focused on something, or falling asleep. It’s like...a whisper.”

“What’s the whisper say?”

“Eddie.”

Anne looks at him. Really takes a close look at him with her eyes narrowed and her forehead creased, her brows pinching until they’re almost touching. “And the doctors—”

“Said I need to sleep more. That the sleep deprivation is causing hallucinations.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small clear bottle. “Sleeping pills. But they don’t work. Not when the fevers come.”

Eddie fidgets with the bottle, the little white pills pinging against the plastic container with a dullness that reflects his life. Dull. Everything’s so dull. He sighs, unsure why he’s even here, when Anne touches his jaw and brings his shifting gaze to her lovely face. 

“You miss him, don’t you?” Her words strike a chord in him. Sets off alarms that make him recoil, and she coos as her expression turns soft. “Don’t you?”

Does he? Fuck yes, he does. He misses Venom’s voice in his ears, misses Venom’s presence coiling inside his chest. Misses Venom’s snark, his sass, and his candor. He misses  _ Venom _ , and isn’t that just so fucked up Eddie doesn’t know how to respond. 

So he nods and blinks as if he’s waking up from a deep sleep. 

“Oh, Eddie,” Anne sighs and pulls Eddie in for a hug, her slender arms wrapping around him so tight he can’t breathe. “It’s okay, you know, to miss it all. To miss him.”

“W-what is fucking wrong with me?” Eddie croaks, and his voice cracks. “He’s a fucking alien. He was  _ killing _ me. He almost did!”

“He also cared for you.”

“How would you know?”

“He told me.” She looks up and grins. “When he was...in me—God that’s so odd to say. But when he was in me he told me, but also...I felt it. You must know what I mean, when a part of him melds with you and you can  _ feel _ things even if he doesn’t tell you.”

“...Yeah,” Eddie admits with a sigh. “Yeah I know what you mean.”

“He loved you, Eddie. And you felt it. Maybe none of this makes any sense and it’s all so fucked up no shrink can fix it, but know that his feelings were pure. So are yours.” 

The sour sting behind his eyes is hard to ignore and impossible to blink away. The first tear rolls down his cheek and soaks into Anne’s hair, and Eddie sucks in a shuddering breath before the sob escapes like a trapped insect. Venom loved him.  _ Loved _ him. And  _ died _ for him. 

Another sob echoes around the spacious room, the sound swallowed by Eddie’s heaving breaths. He clings to Anne’s slim frame as if it’s the only thing anchoring him to this world. To this moment where someone other than him acknowledges that he’s not insane. That he’s grief is valid. That he’s not so fucked in the head he can’t let a pile of alien goo go because that’s all he had. And now he’s lost even that. 

Eddie doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up on Anne’s couch, covered in a thick blanket with  Mr. Belvedere curled on his chest, he’s at peace. 


End file.
